Might I Make a Request?
by yukiislikesnow
Summary: K/S response to kink meme involving Kirk in glasses and Spock enjoying that look on him.
1. Chapter 1

--Might I Make a Request?--

In response to a kink meme on LJ. "_**Glasses Porn!**_  
Spock/Kirk

Spock gets incredibly turned on when Kirk wears his glasses.  
Do what you will with this anon.

(Honestly, I just want Spock coming all over Kirk's face while his glasses are one.)"

--Spock POV--

As of late the captain has taken to completeing his daily paperwork requirements immediatly after his evening meals, rather than squander the majority of his off-time hours the day before said paperwork is due. In light of his new work ethic our nightly chess games have ceased. As a Vulcan, I require less sleep than my captain, and our once nightly matches were not an incummerance to my office duties. Although I experience no emotional duress over the recent change of events, I do find the abrupt change in my nightly routine rather...unsettling. I have noticed that an average of 2.256 hours of my evenings are largely unproductive. So unproductive in fact that I have taken to rereading "Alice in Wonderland" sereral times in sucession, much like I did as a child. These last few weeks have been the first where I have had nothing to do in the time between my evening meal and meditaion time. Before my chess matches with the captain I used that time to associate myself more closely with Nyota.

Perhaps I can coerse the captain into a match tonight. I am almost entirely certain that the captain will experience a sudden mental fatigue if he does not receive adaquate rest soon. A logical arguement; the captain is of no use to his ship if he is not sufficiently rested.

After the captain and I finished out eighth game he gave me express permission to enter his quarters at any time, provided I knock beforehand. Until now i had no reason to exercise this right.

He is...working. Of course he must be, his paperwork has been entering into the database at a corrolating rate with his claimed new work schedule. But somehow, seeing his actually work is almost shocking. Almost. When he looks up from his PADD to me, I take notice of thin black-rimmed glasses. Fascinating, as I have never seen them on his person or in his room before. It is intreging that they add to the aestetics of his face rather than not. The lenses seem to make his eyes...more noticable. Logical, as lenses are used for maginifcation. Logical, of course.

"Spock, what's up?"

"Up Captain?"

"We're in my quarters, after shift, so it's Jim. And I mean, what do you want? How's it going?"

"I was wondering if I might make a request?"

"Go ahead Spock."

"If you are not too immeresed in your work I would like to play a game of chess with you. As we have not dne so in quite some-"

A smile is working it's way onto his face before I can finish. A, to quote the good doctor. 'shit-eating' one I belive. "You miss seeing me after hours Spock?" I was right to make use of Dr. McCoy's euphamism. And the slight innuendo was not as lost on me as he believes.

"I find that my nights have been largely unproductive in the absence of our nightly games." He smiles again, it seems I had no need to bring up a logical arguement. He places the PADD carefully on his bed before looking to me and removing his glasses. The loss of apperal is noteable to his features. I was certain I gave nothing away that would hint at my disapproval, but he put them back on.

"I'll keep these on, maybe it'll give me the edge I need to kick your ass." Safe it seems.

"Illogical, as your sight should not be hindered enough to derail your thinking, therefore improving the slight hinderance should not give you so large an advantage." That grin again. It seems to lift the right side of the glasses just a millimeter higher than the left.

"Pfft, you seem to think I need a large advantage to beat you." I find it would be in my best interest not to comment.

He did in fact beat me. Fascinating, I wonder if the galsses did give him an edge, or if he simply put more thought into his moves to make it seem like the glasses gave him an advantage. "I win Spock. Admit it, my glasses helped me own you at your own game."

"As I do not lie, I feel that it would be in poor taste to admit something I am uncertain of. And chess was not invented by me it was invented by--"

"No need to ruin my fun Spock."

"Indeed." We sat in amicable scilence for thirty-six point two seconds. "Can I make a request Spock."

"Certainly Captain."

"I want to ask a question."

"You may ask."

"And you won't lie about it?"

"Vulcan's do not lie Jim." He smiles at me again, but this time both cheeks raise the glasses at equal heights.

"Okay so...I want to know...Do you think my glasses make me look hot." Damn...that seems to be the appropriate word.

"I fail to see how a pair of glasses could alter my perception of your body temperature."

"No shit, Spock, come on, you know what I mean. Do you think my glasses make me look sexier than normal? Do they add to my hotness? Do they make me more aesteticlly pleasing to you?" Vulcan's do not lie, but I'm not entirely Vulcan. Perhaps I could...no, that would be the cowards way out. I shall just have to face the concequences of my actions, I already told him that I would not be deceitful.

"Your glasses do add to the beauty of your face."

"Hn." Indeed.

______________________

R&R


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

--Just a note, all the Vulcan ochinchin stuff is cannon, cept the stuffs description, that I made up. Actually the Vulcan penis is retractable, like an animals'…so basically he looks like a ken-doll when he's not using his business.-  
Spock POV

My blood feels like it's boiling. Never, not even in the height of my relationship with Nyota, did my body react this way. I know that my face is flushed green, my breathing has accelerated, and my heart...Jim said it feels akin to a frightened cat's. All of this because of a simple request. If I had known a few kisses would undo me this much I would have declined. Oh, but this feeling, it's...fascinating.

"I have another request Spock. I heard that Vulcan's have really sensitive hands."

"That is not a request Captain."

"Jim. And I was getting to it, ever hear of building to a point? Is it true? About your hands?" I nod and suddenly his hand's are in mine. He squeezes and my hips jerk forward.

"Jim, Jim what do you--" His left hand squeezes again while his right opens my pants.

"Shh, I haven't made my request yet. If you do this for me I'll do whatever you want me to after, kay?" I nod again and resign myself to his touch. He guides me back to the bed and I start to sit but I am stopped. Jim sits instead and positions me in front of him. He guides both of my hands into my pants.

"Jim, I do not-"

"Spock, this is my request: give yourself a hand job. I know you know what that means. Please, for me okay." I can not bring myself to vocalize consent, my throat feels blocked. But I begin regardless. I have never masturbated before. It seems illogical, it is a waste of bodily fluids. I would not condemn the act because of this alone, after all I have had sex with Nyota with no intention of fathering a child, but self gratification is...something that only benefits the self momentarily. It never seemed worth the time. But with all of Jim's focus on my hands and my penis I can't help but wish I knew what to do. His glasses highlight the various blues in his eyes. I don't want to disappoint those eyes.

"Spock, don't tug so hard. I'll show you." I expect him to guide my hands, but instead he unfastens his own pants and leads by example. "There, like that, up and down, slow with only a little bit of pressure. Twist a little when you get near the tip." I gasp softly. This must be why there are so many myths against masturbation. It seems addicting. My eyes flicker between his eyes and his hands. But his eyes don't move, they're staring straight through thin lenses to my hands.

I see his other, previously unoccupied hand travel back...to his testicles I suppose, so I follow suit. It is...difficult to imitate his next few motions. My testicles are drawn higher up, and I have no foreskin...but I'm still trying my best to imitate him. Oh...oh.

"I guess you found something you really like. What's with that face? Did you think you were keeping quiet?" His smirk raises the right side of his glasses exactly one millimeter, and I find I can't be angry with his observation. Pleasure is racing from my hands up my arms and back to my penis and vice versa. Like an electrical circuit. My hands apply more pressure and I twist my hands exactly two degrees more. I've lost all control. I can't even bring myself to look away from his eyes anymore. Sweat is gathering at the hollows of his eyes, just behind the glasses, and the lenses are starting to fog. From the bottom up, these must be 'bedroom eyes.

Jim's fingers hook around the belt loops at my hips. He tugs, and presses a kiss to my right hand. His tongue gives the briefest flick against the webbing of my first and second finger...and I'm gone.  
But I don't stay gone. I can feel my face flood with blood once more. But this time I'm embarrassed. He taught me to do something wonderful and I.

"I...Jim, I'm sorry. My hand...I-" He's laughing. I have been made into a fool. I-

"Hm," He licks a small drop of my seminal fluid off of his lip. "Usually you go on a few dates before you give a guy a facial."

"Facial?" Sexual slag I believe. Is he not angry with me? How could he not be...my ejaculate...it's clinging to the sides of his glasses and dripping down his nose onto his top lip. Some of it even made it into his eyelashes from under the bottom of his left lens. His position during my orgasm was most unfortunate.

"Yeah, a facial, spraying cum into someone's face. Can't say it's gross though. Your stuff-"  
"Stuff captain?"

"You sprayed sperm in my face, you can most defiantly call me Jim now. Yeah, your stuff...your semen. It's sweet and really thick...kind of like...honey maybe." I wouldn't know for sure, I've never tasted my own seminal fluid before.

"Vulcan's store excess sugar in their bodies for times when food is scarce...and our seminal fluid is thicker because excess fluid is diverted to more essential tasks."

"Best I ever tasted." I am curious, it is only natural for a scientist to be curious. I lean forward slowly enough for him to stop me if he is uncomfortable. He obviously isn't. It seems he's curious about what I am attempting to do. I steady Jim's head with both hands, and lick the bottom of his glasses. My tongue curls under the left lens before I pull it back and lick the front of the lens slowly, savoring the feel of the glass against my tongue. It is sweet, much like honey.

"Jim, I request that you wear your glasses more often."

R&R guys, it's all done.


End file.
